


Love Potion No. 9

by Rod13369



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Angst, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9344213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rod13369/pseuds/Rod13369
Summary: After the events of "Reset", Myka reflects on the mission that changed her relationship with HG Wells.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the Myka/HG relationship. The main action takes place between the events of "Where or When" and "Buried". The story serves as the jumping-off point for all of my other Bering & Wells fiction. Originally published on Fanfiction.net on 8/7/12. Minor editing.

_Blinking back tears, Myka drives away from the warehouse. By now, Mrs. Frederic is reading the letter to Artie, or, more likely, to everyone. That's okay; they deserved to know how she feels about each of them. It's what she hasn't included in the letter that causes her so much grief: Her feelings for one H.G. Wells._

_Ever since she met the woman, Helena G. Wells has held a special kind of fascination for Myka. Bookworm that she is, Myka couldn’t help but be intrigued by the news that one of her favorite authors is actually a woman, and a very attractive one at that. Granted, her first impressions of Helena had been somewhat colored by the way the Brit had so easily tricked Myka and Pete into trapping themselves and then proceeded to break into the warehouse with MacPherson. But the next time they met, Helena saved Myka’s life with that grappling hook of hers, as well as literally sweeping Myka off of her feet. And somehow, over the course of a mission where Helena helped to save Artie’s life, Myka realized that she had fallen in love with the other woman._

_When Helena was reinstated as a warehouse agent, Myka was thrilled. She had given testimony to the Regents that this was a good move, but had still been unsure as to if they would listen. From her own interactions with Valda, Myka was pretty sure that the Regents could read anyone like a book, and was convinced that they knew of her feelings for the other woman. Whether this influenced their final decision she couldn’t say, but once Helena was officially part of the team Myka didn’t care. With every day and every mission she's grown closer to the other woman, appreciating Helena’s insightful banter and ease with different technologies that proved useful on several occasions. But one mission stands out in Myka’s mind above all of the others, one that occurred not long after she and Pete took a trip to 1961…_

_Well crap_ , Myka cursed internally. Of all the weekends to be chasing after this particular artifact, it just _had_ to be the weekend that Pete was off with Kelly, leaving Myka to work with HG. And of course their suspect, whom they had correctly identified from the start, worked in a building with a dirty, dusty basement that connected all of the buildings on this block. And what good was that basement unless it became the scene of a chase? “Why can’t they ever come quietly?” Myka muttered to herself as she shifted her grip on the Tesla. When the suspect, a young man by the name of Johnny Allen, had initially bolted, he had managed to surprise both Myka and HG, neither of whom had seen the door behind the counter that led into the basement. In the time it took them to get around the counter of the little shop and get down the stairs, Allen had disappeared into the bowels of the building.

“We should split up,” HG had suggested, and Myka couldn’t see a reason not to. So here she was, five minutes later, alone, looking for a young man who had somehow resurrected Love Potion Number 9.

She almost hadn’t believed Artie when he’d given them the news: no less than ten people in Vancouver had been reported for causing disturbances in the form of excessive kissing. All ten had been detained, but continued with their behavior even so. It wasn’t until she and HG had arrived in Vancouver and seen the victims for themselves that she’d begun to suspect what was going on. A quick call to Artie on the Farnsworth had confirmed it: Love Potion Number 9 really did exist. In fact, the original was sitting on a shelf in the warehouse. Some detective work on the part of Helena revealed that all of the victims had been recent patrons of the shop run by Allen, who just so happened to be the grandson of a Gypsy.

As she approached the latest corner, Myka noticed a faint glimmering of light on the wall. Tesla at the ready, she whipped around the corner to see one of the strangest sights imaginable. Built into the back wall of the room was a gigantic sink, with massive shelves on the left-hand side and three mobile shelf units scattered around. On the right-hand side of the sink, also built into the wall, a massive granite countertop was covered in bags of various substances and several mixing bowls. Several lamps, a small box covered in pipes and dials, and quite a few empty glass bottles lay scattered around, as well. Myka shifted her attention to the shelf units and noticed that they contained bottles and bottles of a rosy purple liquid. Lowering the Tesla slightly, Myka took a step into the room. A sound off to her left brought her spinning around, raising the Tesla back up, just in time to get a face-full of some really foul-smelling and foul-tasting liquid.

Firing the Tesla by instinct, Myka was relieved to hear the sound of a body dropping nearby. When no shots came her way, she dropped the Tesla to her side and proceeded to wipe off her face. “Oh gross,” she exclaimed as she spat out the liquid in her mouth. Blinking, she looked up to see HG standing over Allen, her Tesla pointed at his unconscious form. “Nice shot,” the other woman said, smiling at her. “Are you alright?”

“I think so,” Myka replied. Even after a chase through cobweb-filled basements and being doused with something disgusting, HG’s smile was more than enough to set Myka’s heart racing. In fact, she seemed to be reacting even more strongly than usual to the former author; she could feel her skin heating up in a nice flush.

Thankfully, HG didn’t seem to notice in the low lighting. “So,” she said, turning away from the motionless man on the ground, “which of these is the artifact?” She was examining the shelves of potion, clearly trying to discern the original.

“Um, good question,” Myka replied, holstering her own weapon and heading for the sink. She got about three feet away from it when a powerful, familiar smell assaulted her nose. “Whoa!” she said, backtracking. Footsteps behind her announced the arrival of Wells. “What is it?” the British voice asked. A sharp intake of breath at the end of the question told Myka that Wells had also smelled the concoction.

“I think we found where he was making the stuff,” Myka stated, pinching her nose and edging closer to the sink. Inside the basin she saw a rather large quantity of the same liquid that filled the tiny bottles on the shelves around the room.

“Well,” HG’s voice said from right beside her, “I don’t think that that’s all going to fit in a static bag.”

Myka turned towards the voice and discovered that the other woman directly behind her, peering over her right shoulder. Not even two inches away, HG’s dark eyes sparkled in the light of the workbench lamps and the strange concoction in the sink. Without stopping to think, Myka reached up with her right hand, turned the other woman’s face toward hers, and kissed HG full on the lips.

The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds before Helena (a much more beautiful name for such a beautiful creature) pulled away and took a couple of steps to the side, away from Myka. Both women merely stood there, facing one another, and Myka was pleased to see that Helena’s chest was heaving in time with her own. Several long moments passed before either one of them spoke. “Not that I’m not flattered, Myka,” Helena finally said, “but shouldn’t we wait until a more opportune time?”

Myka nodded, mentally shaking herself. “Right,” she agreed, quickly looking away from the author and back at the sink. “There’s a can of neutralizer out in the car. Maybe we should dump that in to the sink?” She glanced back up at Helena and had to almost physically restrain herself from closing the gap and kissing the other woman again.

“That sounds like a plan,” the older woman agreed. “Tell you what: You take care of restraining Mr. Allen over there and I’ll run out to the car and get the neutralizer.”

“Okay,” Myka nodded. As soon as she started moving, however, her feet carried her straight over to Helena to kiss her again. Rather than the chaste press of lips of a few moments before, this time Myka pressed into the kiss, holding the other’s face with both hands and putting all of her feelings for Helena into the contact. Just as she was contemplating trying to gain access to Helena’s mouth her tongue, the author pulled away, making Myka moan with frustration.

“Agent Bering,” Helena stated in a no-nonsense voice, “as pleasurable as this activity is, we have work to do. Now, I’m going to run to the car. You need to restrain our suspect so that we can hand him over to the local authorities.” Without waiting for Myka to reply, Helena quickly moved past the other woman and left the area; Myka could hear her footsteps retreating down the hall.

“Get ahold of yourself Myka!” she whispered. “Snag it, bag it, tag it, remember?” Only as she began walking, she realized that she was fantasizing about snagging, bagging, and tagging a certain British Warehouse agent rather than whatever this artifact was. In fact, she reasoned, she could hit Allen again with the Tesla so that he wouldn’t wake up for a good long while, and then go after Helena. A third kiss seemed to be in order.

* * *

 

Helena G. Wells was excited, confused, and not a little worried. The excitement came from the fact that she had finally kissed Myka Bering, the tall brunette she had had her eye on for some time now. Or rather, _Myka_ had kissed _her._ Now the confusion, because after observing Myka from afar for a long time and then up close more recently, she would never have thought that Myka would be the one to make the first move. She, Helena, had had many lovers in her long past, both male and female, and about half of the time she had been the one to initiate the relationship. Based on her observations of Myka, Helena had fully expected that to be the case this time around; the younger woman, while obviously attracted to her, was thinking about the whole thing way too much. There would be unguarded moments where Helena could see the affection in the other’s eyes, but then the doors would slam down and Myka would look away, lost in her own thoughts and, more often than not, blushing slightly. It made Helena smile to think about the effect that she had on this woman. For some time now half-formed plans for how to show Myka that she reciprocated these feelings had been running around Helena’s mind, but now none of those were relevant because Myka had made the first move. So there was a bit of confusion, yes, and also worry. Why was Myka suddenly acting in a most un-Myka-ish way? What had happened to her? Helena wanted a relationship with this woman, yes, but with the Myka that she knew, not this stranger that had appeared in the last ten minutes.

Throughout these musings, Helena’s body had been occupied with the task of going up to the car, retrieving the neutralizer canister, and making her way back through the labyrinthine basement to Allen’s “kitchen”. She had just entered the final corridor before the room when the sound of footsteps approaching from the other end. Helena reached for her Tesla, but when she realized whom it was she dropped her hand. “Myka,” she breathed. “Is Allen secured?” she called out towards the other woman.

Myka did not respond, and as she got closer Helena could see a look that appeared to be equal parts determination and yearning on the younger woman’s face. Helena opened her mouth to ask the question over again, but then Myka was on top of her, pushing her against the wall of the corridor. “What---” Helena’s question was cut off by Myka’s lips sealing themselves over her own in a hungry kiss.

Helena was helpless to stop the moan that rose from deep within her, especially when Myka’s tongue forced its way into her mouth. Helena twisted her body slightly to try to escape, and bumped into Myka’s left arm where it met the wall. Even as she thought about shifting the other way, Myka’s right hand cupped Helena’s cheek, firmly holding her in place as Myka deepened the kiss.

For just a moment, Helena allowed herself to thoroughly enjoy the feeling of being kissed by the gorgeous woman in front of her. Indeed, she silently congratulated herself on wearing shoes with a slight heel, for they evened out the minor difference in height between the two ladies and made the whole thing that much more enjoyable. Pleasurable or not, however, this was not the time nor the place, and now Helena was seriously worried about Myka’s behavior. To distract the Secret Service agent from her next move, Helena would have to fight dirty.

Returning the kiss, Helena maneuvered her right leg between Myka’s knees, until her thigh pressed against Myka’s crotch. Judging by the moaning, Myka approved of this action. As Myka’s hips began to twitch up and down, Helena reached up and covered the hand on her face with her own. Quick as lightning, Helena pulled Myka’s right arm around behind her back, pivoting on her right leg as she did so. Now Myka was pressed face-first to the wall, her arm twisted in such a way that she could not move and her right leg tangled up with Helena’s. “I’m so sorry about this, darling,” Helena told the younger woman as she drew her Tesla and checked the setting by touch. She pressed the weapon into the small of Myka’s back and fired once. Blue lightning danced over the body beneath her, and Myka fell still.

* * *

 

Two feelings dominated Myka’s body as she regained consciousness. There was a gentle pressure on her arms, which couldn’t be moved more than an inch or so in any direction. Most of her mind, however, was filled by the overwhelming desire to find Helena G. Wells and kiss her senseless. With that thought in mind, Myka forced her eyes open to look for the object of her desire.

She was back in the room with all of the shelves and potion, and literally on her back on the floor, her arms pulled over her head. Mildly curious, Myka glanced up to find that someone had handcuffed her to the pipes under the sink, leading to the feeling of pressure that she had already noted. A scuffing noise brought Myka’s attention off to the right, where the sight of Helena drove all other thoughts out of her head.

Helena had removed the jacket she had been wearing earlier, revealing a white blouse covered by a dark vest. The sleeves on this blouse were rolled up to the elbow, and she was carrying a box of something that clinked as she walked. “You’re awake,” Helena stated, catching Myka’s eye as she approached. She continued towards the sink. “I really am sorry about this, darling, but you were being quite impossible.” She stopped, now standing in front of the sink and next to Myka. Looking up, Myka noted the smudges on Helena’s khaki pants and blouse, and the way her arms trembled slightly as she set the box on the edge of the sink. “You may want to close your eyes,” the other woman advised, tipping the contents of the box into the basin. Too wrapped up in her longing for Helena, Myka did not do this, and became slightly dazzled by the sparks of an artifact hitting neutralizer. To her mind, though, the dancing light patterns only served to accentuate the other’s beauty, making her that much more desirable. Dazed, she watched as Helena walked away, her eyes drawn to the gentle sway of Helena’s hips as she moved back towards the shelves.

“One more load,” Helena called over her shoulder as she began filling up the box. Myka barely heard her through the haze of her own desire. As Helena continued to talk, something about how Myka had apparently come into contact with the love potion at some point, Myka’s own mind was filled with ways to get Helena down on the floor beside her. Finally, the other woman lifted the box and started back towards the sink. As Helena drew level with her, Myka kicked out with her right leg, intent on tripping up her fellow agent and bringing her down to the floor. Much to her surprise, Helena nimbly avoided the move and made it to the sink. “You’ll have to do better than that, I’m afraid,” she advised, looking down at Myka. “But now let’s get you back to normal, shall we?” With that, she once again tipped the box’s contents into the sink.

Knowing what was coming, Myka’s reflexes kicked in and shut her eyes. After a moment, she opened her eyes to find Helena crouched over her, their faces only a foot apart. “How are you feeling?” Helena asked of her. Rather than bother with a verbal reply, Myka tried to sit up, intent on kissing that worried look off of Helena’s face. Her efforts went unrewarded, for the position of her handcuffed arms meant she could not get leverage to raise her torso more than an inch or so. Plus, as soon as she had begun to move, Helena rose smoothly to her full height, pulling her face out of reach. “Damn,” she muttered, and Myka silently agreed. “That should have worked. The entire potion is in the sink. Unless…” Helena’s voice trailed away and a look of intense concentration covered her face. From her vantage point on the ground, Myka thought that Helena had never looked more beautiful, and continued to struggle with the handcuffs in the hope of freeing herself so she could kiss that sexy face.

When Helena began walking away, Myka let out a moan of frustration. At the sound, Helena halted briefly and looked back over her shoulder with a wicked grin. “Now, now, patience love,” she reprimanded. Myka watched helplessly as Helena walked over to where another body lay near the door and began rifling through its pockets. When the search proved fruitless, Helena began to feel around on the floor around the body. “Ah ha!” she exclaimed, holding up something small and shiny. She strode back over to where Myka lay, holding something in front of her. As she got closer, Myka saw that it was a small glass bottle, identical to those that Helena had already dumped in the sink. Why this mattered, Myka didn’t know or care; she merely wanted out of these handcuffs so that she could resume kissing Helena.

Her movements obviously conveyed this to the other woman, for Helena once again crouched down beside her. “I’m not sure if you’re listening, Myka,” that sexy British voice said, “but I believe that it is the bottle that has this effect on you, not the liquid.” Helena smiled softly. “Hopefully you will soon be feeling more yourself.” With that, she stood up and tossed the little glass vial into the sink.

There was another round of sparks, and this time Myka felt a jolt pass through her body. Without thinking about it, she relaxed back onto the floor, reveling in the feeling of being _her_ again. Eyes closed, she took a couple of deep breaths. She was vaguely aware of movement beside her, and then the tension on her arms dropped away. “Can you sit up?” Helena asked from very close by. Hearing her voice, Myka froze. _Oh shit_. Was it too much to hope that the last half-hour or so had just been an incredibly vivid dream? Myka cracked open one eye to find HG crouching next to her, still in the khakis, white blouse and dark vest, still streaked with dirt and sweaty from the work of disposing of the artifact.

Apparently, her dreams had just become a horrifying reality.

* * *

 

Barely two hours later, Helena sat at the desk in her room at the hotel, absent-mindedly doodling with the horrible ballpoint pen on the provided letterhead tablet. Her mind was hours and miles away, back in that horrid basement in the immediate aftermath of the mission.

Helena still couldn’t believe that the bottles and the foul liquid had worked together to create the effects of the love potion, nor that the effects could be replicated so many times. In her experience with artifacts, it was simply unheard of. Although, as Artie had pointed out over the Farnsworth when Myka called him, the ways of some cultures, such as the Gypsies, were still mysterious. Of course, Helena doubted that she was supposed to have heard that particular conversation, as Myka was standing ten feet away with her back to Helena. Indeed, at the time Helena had been using Myka’s cell phone to contact the local authorities and inform them that they could now arrest Mr. Allen for distributing a dangerous new drug. But Myka’s conversation had also concerned her, because Artie was giving directions for safely transporting the neutralizer and potion “soup” back to the warehouse, and Helena hadn’t been sure Myka would relay these directions. Thankfully, she had, but had avoided looking anywhere near Helena; in fact, Myka had appeared to be talking to a spot near the entranceway of the room. In the elevator of the hotel, Myka had stood as far away as the confined space would allow, and on reaching their floor she had walked extremely fast down the hall to her room. Helena had pulled level with the door just in time to hear the deadbolt click into place, and didn’t even bother to try the connecting door between the rooms when she reached her own. Instead, she sat at the desk and began to draw, and only now realized that she had sketched Myka.

“Oh, damn!” Helena swore, rising quickly from her chair and starting to pace. As she did so her mind whirled with a variety of thoughts. _Myka kissed me. She may not have intended to, but that potion obviously lowered whatever inhibitions she had and allowed her to. Why did I stop her? Damn me for being so sensible. Damn_ her _for thinking too much in the first place! If she’d just thought a little less we’d not have had to wait for that blasted potion and bottle to affect her. If I know one thing about Myka—_ she started to slow her pace, thinking furiously. _If I know one thing about Myka it’s that she’s probably next door right now, curled up with a book, trying to lose herself in the story and failing miserably. In her mind she did something wrong. She is angry with herself and scared and_ “Damn,” she swore again, more softly this time. As frustrated as she was, Helena could simply not abandon Myka at this point. Taking a deep breath, she headed over to the door between their rooms, silently thanking Artie for his stupid insistence that they _always_ stay in adjoining rooms in case of an artifact emergency. _Though I’m not sure this was what he had in mind,_ Helena thought with a small smile. Slowly, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. “Myka?” she called softly. When no answer was forthcoming, she tried again. “Myka?” she spoke a little louder, knocking again. “May I come in?”

There was still no answer. Helena pressed her ear to the door, listening carefully. There were no sounds from the other side, but she still felt concern for the other woman. Without too much hope, she tried the doorknob, fully expecting it to remain still. Surprisingly, it turned smoothly under her hand. Cautiously, Helena pushed open the door and entered Myka’s room.

As she’d suspected, Myka was curled up in her bed, back propped up against the headboard and feet tucked under her. She had changed out of her clothes from earlier and was now wearing a simple t-shirt and soft stretch pants. A book lay open in her lap, and her head was bent over. To the casual observer, she would appear completely absorbed in the pages laid out before her. Having observed her read on numerous occasions, however, Helena knew that Myka was merely using her position as a kind of comfort zone, a safe place to retreat and think about her actions of the day. Even across the fifteen feet that separated them, Helena could feel the tension in the other woman’s posture and thoughts.

Slowly, carefully, Helena made her way over to the bed and lowered herself to sit on the edge opposite the American, facing her. She could see Myka’s shoulders tense at the closeness, and her heart broke. _No one should be so afraid of what they feel_. “Myka,” she said softly. “Would you like to talk about what happened today?”

“Not really,” the other woman replied, glancing at Helena before looking back at the book and turning the page.

“Myka,” Helena tried again, reaching out to cover the page with her hand. Myka tensed, and for a moment Helena was sure she was going to be experiencing a great deal of pain in her hand. But Myka relaxed, and Helena’s hand came to rest over the spine of the book, effectively blocking both pages. “You know,” she continued, ignoring the fact that Myka still sat with her head bowed, “I have a theory about how this particular artifact worked.” No physical movement, but Helena was positive that the other woman was hanging on her every word. “I believe that this ‘love potion’ acted like a stiff drink: it lowered the affected person’s inhibitions to allow them to approach the person that they truly loved.” Carefully, she pulled the book out of Myka’s hands and set it off to the side. “And you know what the truly amazing part about the experience was?” she continued, using her other hand to tilt Myka’s face up. “You discovered that I love you, too.”

Myka’s green eyes widened, and she froze again with Helena’s hand cupping her cheek. Seeing that she would have to make the first move, Helena smiled as she leaned in towards the other woman. “I love you, Myka Bering,” she said, her lips mere inches from the other woman’s. With that, Helena closed the distance between them and placed a soft kiss on Myka’s lips.

* * *

 

“I love you, Myka Bering,” HG said, her face so close that Myka could see every detail. With that, the other woman leaned in the rest of the way and kissed Myka.

Shocked and a little scared, Myka remained frozen for a long moment, trying to process everything that had happened and what HG had just said. _The “potion” lowered my inhibitions? Okay, I believe that. I definitely kissed her, anyway. Is that what I keep feeling for her? Love? She loves me?_ _She loves me! And I love her._ This last thought acted as a kind of spell-breaker, and Myka could move again. Closing her eyes, she brought her hands up to hold Helena’s face, opening her mouth slightly and moaning when Helena’s tongue snaked in between her lips. She leaned away from the headboard, towards Helena and her wonderful hands, hands that were now wrapping themselves around Myka’s neck and lower back as the other woman pulled her down crosswise on the bed.

A need for oxygen caused Myka to pull away slightly. Her eyes opened and collided with Helena’s darker gaze. Her fellow agent was looking at her with such desire that Myka could feel a nice blush creeping up her cheeks. “Are you embarrassed, darling?” Helena asked in a light-hearted tone.

“Maybe a little,” Myka confessed. “I don’t—I don’t want to, to disappoint you…” she trailed off.

Helena laughed, a deep, throaty sound. “I highly doubt you will.” She apparently sensed Myka’s apprehension, however. “Afraid of things moving too fast?”

Sheepishly, Myka nodded, relieved and somewhat terrified by how well the older woman could read her.

“Not to worry, love,” Helena said, straightening to a sitting position. Myka moaned quietly at the loss of physical contact. Helena smirked and lowered a hand to stroke Myka’s neck. “You set the pace that you desire, alright? In the meantime,” Helena tugged gently on Myka’s arms and repositioned them so that they were properly oriented on the bed, heads on pillows, barely an inch of space between them, “a little harmless cuddling never hurt anyone.” She smiled again, making Myka’s heart soar. Helena’s right arm snaked around Myka’s waist, while her left folded between them so that her hand cupped Myka’s cheek. Still smiling, Helena leaned in and kissed Myka again. “Not too fast for you?” she asked, pulling back.

“Not at all,” Myka replied, leaning over to continue the kiss. Her own left arm snaked around the smaller woman’s waist, pulling the two of them together until their bodies touched and their legs intertwined. They continued to kiss, and the heat was definitely building between them. In fact, Myka went so far as to unbutton the top two buttons of Helena’s blouse, exposing more skin for her gaze and hands. True to her word, Helena went slow and followed Myka’s lead. Once Myka undid those buttons, Helena pushed her hand up under Myka’s t-shirt, her smooth skin feeling wonderful against Myka’s back and side. Myka was seriously considering undoing the remaining buttons and getting Helena out of that pesky blouse all together when a huge yawn caught her completely off-guard, interrupting their latest kiss.

Helena laughed again. “Someone is tired,” she noted.

“Am not,” Myka protested, but it was not her best effort. She’d been through a lot in the last twelve hours, and now it was all catching up to her. A wave of tiredness swept over her, making her very glad that she was already horizontal. “Stay with me?” she asked Helena, fighting to keep her eyes open.

Helena leaned over to kiss her softly. “Of course, darling.” Myka smiled at this and slid off into a deep sleep, filled with dreams of the woman beside her.

_Over the following days, Myka and Helena weren't able to spend much time together, although they did manage more than a few stolen kisses both in the warehouse and at Leena’s. There was also a rather heated make-out session one night when the others went out to a movie. Myka had been working up the courage to tell Helena that she was ready to take the next step when they were whisked away to Egypt. Seeing Helena in that tank top and shorts outfit almost did in Myka’s self-control completely, and she had the feeling that Helena had done that on purpose._

_During the tests to enter Warehouse 2, Myka couldn’t help but fall more in love with Helena, admiring how well she helped complete Pete’s stupid pancake puzzle and then the strength and intelligence she displayed in figuring out the physical challenge. Her heart had broken for Helena when the Medusa’s gaze nearly shattered her. It wasn’t long after that that Myka’s heart was broken by Helena’s seemingly sudden betrayal._

_Forcing herself to stand up to Helena at Yellowstone was one of the hardest things Myka had ever done. Putting the gun to her head, knowing the Helena just might pull the trigger, was agonizing. The biggest heartbreak, however, comes from knowing that Helena has been planning all of this for a long time, and didn't even consider how her actions would affect Myka. Myka still believes that somewhere deep inside Helena truly does care about her, maybe even love her. But obviously it hadn’t been enough to stop her from attempting her insane plan to destroy civilization._

_Well, now Helena is in the care of the Regents. Myka doen’t even want to think about what punishment they would deem suitable. As for herself, Myka can’t stay in the warehouse. Too many memories lurk in its aisles, from the places where they kissed to the entire section named after the author. If she had never started working there, she would never have met Helena in the first place. If she had never met Helena, her heart would not now be shattered into a million pieces._

_Tears silently stream down her face as she pulls onto the main road. What happens next, she isn’t sure. Probably head back to her parents for a little while and just work in the bookstore, and try to forget all about Helena G. Wells._


End file.
